Worth the fall
by Rivergirls Anthem
Summary: POST 4x18 A story popped into my head after the final MiSa scene from last episode. MAJOR spoilerish if you haven't seen that! Please let me know if you like it? Please? --- Chapter 7 is finally up! --- Xo, as always
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : Okay, so this is the story where I will be dealing with Sara's life-changing news, as well as dealing with the spoilers for the next episodes (the big issue : Michael has to choose between saving Lincoln's life and Sara's), I guess. But that second one is only if you want me to continue with this story, so I really need your input on this one! Please review?**

**Please let me know what you think?**

**Xo, as always**

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Sara

Sara slid the window closed and leaned on the green iron wiring, trying to ignore the goosebumps that started to appear on her skin. It was enough to just let the wind play with her hair and stare out into traffic, knowing they were safe here. Nobody would figure out the connection between her and this place, and she was thankful for that.

God, it was peaceful here at night. She always marveled at the ammount of anonimity a large city supplied to everyone who lived in it. The cars raced by and not one driver had a clue about the person in the car next to them. Didn't know anything about the life the other one led, wether he was happy or depressed, angry or at ease. Still, it was hard for her to hide up here, hard to keep on shying away from Michael whose gorgeous eyes seemed to bore into her. It's not that she didn't want to tell him, it's that it would be better if he didn't know : his fear of having someone hurt her would only triple and he would be glancing at her out of the corner of his eye every step they took.

She was startled by the swooshing sound of the window, but kept her eyes trained on the far beyond. His warm hand came to rest on the small of her back, and it made the goosebumps momentarily disappear.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" His voice was still hoarse with sleep, just the way she liked it best. The roughness always cut straight through her body, making it almost impossible to stay calm. She pressed her body closer to his and felt him ease. "You never stay the entire night anymore."

Sara knew that she hurt him, inching away from him at night, o so very careful not to wake him, before slipping out of the bed and going outside for a while, just to breathe. "I'm sorry." Her hand reached up to touch his cheek and he wasn't surprised to smell the scent of iron on her fingers. She had been gripping the railing tightly, so the twang of sharpness was to be expected.

"It's so quiet out here."

"Yeah." She whispered. "It's amazing to see how the world just keeps on turning."

"While ours is falling apart?" He blinked into the night sky, letting the cold wash over him. He didn't care. If she was out here, that's where he needed to be, too. "Sara…" he turned to her, trying to catch her eyes, but she wouldn't let him. Inwardly, he died a little. He knew that she deserved better than this, she deserved everything her colleague already had. Sara deserved pictures on the wall of smiling faces and matching outfits. She deserved it all.

"Why are you pushing me away?"

Finally, she turned to him, quickly pressing her lips to his in a frenzied kiss, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. "I'm sorry, I really don't mean to."

His arms trailed up and down her back, unconsciously pushing up the back of her top. She shivered. "Is it… Am I doing something to..?"

"No." She shook her head determinedly. "It's not you." She nuzzled his neck and sighed a little. It was unfair to keep it from him, she knew that. But she couldn't tell him to his face…mostly because she didn't know how she should feel about it herself. Of course she was happy..deliriously happy for this chance at a family..with Michael.. But the timing couldn't be worse. All this talk of mothers stabbing their children in the back, all this running around, scared to be found by Company agents or even Christina's posse, it just… Michael's brain would go into overdrive.

But she needed to tell him, because he didn't deserve this kind of treatment from her. Maybe they needed this news to finally be happy. To get that warm and fuzzy feeling and hug eachother close, thinking of the future. He had even hinted at it a few days ago, when they had walked into the appartement for the first time. But he'd said 'someday'. She didn't know how he would react when he found out that someday was now.

So Sara extracted herself from his arms, gave a small smile and made a motion to go back inside. She halted just before stepping back in and finally said it. "I'm pregnant."

Michael

She said it so softly that at first he didn't know if he had heard her correctly. When she turned around, still halting near the entrance, and smiled at him, almost apologetically, he felt his body shake. It felt exactly the same as being electrocuted, even though the comparison seemed a bit harsh. He felt his heart pound once, fiercly, against his ribcage before settling down again and beating o so very slowly.

Sara looked at him, gave him a sad smile and turned back towards the bed, tapping the window twice before going in. It seemed as if she was almost afraid to tell him, trying to hide her pregnancy from him for as long as she could. Which made him wonder… How long had she known?

He didn't hestitate a minute before going in after her. Walking towards the bedroom, he found her curled on her side, facing the way he came in. She looked so small in that moment, yet every inch the amazing woman he loved.

His lips curled upwards into a smile – an honest one, not yet decided if it was worried or happy. Walking over to her, he sat down on the side of the bed and let his hand travel along the curve her entire body was making. "How long have you known?"

She shrugged. "A few days. But I don't know how far along I am. I just…" she laughed in disbelief. "I wouldn't know." She bit her lip anxiously and looked up at him. "How are you feeling?"

Michael took a deep breath. "To be honest, I think I'm still in shock. But when I think of it…" his hand tangled in her hair and he let short locks fall from his fingers, "you and me, having a family…" He grinned. "I can't help but feel deliriously happy and proud."

Sara

Tears were forming in her eyes, and he gently wiped them away with his finger before pressing a kiss to the side of her face. "I love you, Sara. And I know that the timing for this little one may be inconvenient, but we'll make it work. Everything is almost over, anyway."

He cuddled up behind her and pulled her close. "We'll be alright," he whispered.

And she believed him.

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_So? What did you think? And should I continue, yes or no? (PS : If you want me to, I can't promise anything yet. I don't know if inspiration will strike again, but at least I'll know you want me to. *smiles*)_

_Xo, as always_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : Hi everyone! First of all, I want to thank everyone who reviewed the previous chapter. It really meant the world to me. Now, I told some of you that I'd dreamt of the story and that I was going to continue it : sooo here's the next chapter. If you would like it better if I just left the previous chapter at a one-shot and start this story some other place (I could call it Worth the fall II or something) then you can tell me! I really hope you like it. As I already hinted in the previous chapter : it deals with the spoiler about "Michael having to chose between saving Lincoln's life and saving Sara's". This chapter is sort of an 'in-between' chapter, to get it going.**

**Please tell me if you like it? Please?**

**XO, as always**

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Michael

She sat in front of him at the small table in the deserted café, poised and collected. A whole different person than the mother he remembered, she was not. Sure, she had aged over time, grown older with vicious wrinkles on her skin, but she wasn't all that different from the woman who had once read him bedtime stories and built birdhouses. Physically, that is.

She wasn't his mother anymore on a whole different level. The one where she had tried to kill his brother and was a dangerous opponent in this game they were playing. She could take from him what the General had tried to all along : his life, his future and all the things he loved most.

"Mother."

Her voice was soft as she returned his greeting, seemingly showing regret and begging for compassion. But he knew all too well about lies and deceit and even before coming here, he had sworn to himself not to fall for any of her games. You just couldn't try to take out your sons and then ask for their forgiveness. You just couldn't.

"We need to talk, Michael. It's not what you think. There's something else playing here, you couldn't imagine all the - "

"Right." He nodded, drawing her out, "You know what I couldn't imagine? A mother trying to end her sons' lives because she wants power to rule the world. Is that what you're "bargaining" for? Our lives for your fortune?"

She shook her head with a small sigh. "I don't want to hurt you, Michael. And I don't want to hurt your brother. But if you keep on trying to undermine this operation that I am trying to set up, then I have no choice. I have to do what needs to be done." She met his fierce gaze with her own, not backing down. "I just wish you would understand."

"I don't. I'm sorry, I just can't." He really couldn't. To him, it was just inconceivable that his own mother would give the command to kill her son. Especially now that he was about to become a parent himself.

_Flashback_

Sara hadn't left his arms again that night, nor the nights after that. She woke from time to time, and he could tell that when she did, she was restless, but she just pulled his arm a little tighter around her and sighed. He had always responded by pressing a small kiss just behind her left ear and pulling her close.

Once the shock of her pregnancy had worn off, he was overcome with the emotions that he rationally knew were the most appropriate in this situation, and felt in his heart. He felt love, he felt happiness, yet he was scared to death. Sara was still in harm's way as long as he would be and now that they had another opponent, the ammount of danger had doubled. He mostly went on his missions alone. He couldn't risk losing her or the baby.

And anyway, it felt great coming home to her.

_Present day_

"You know that Lincoln and I were figuring out a way out of this that doesn't involve hurting you? We were trying to bend and swerve around every possible situation that would end up with you gone. And you just order for a sharp shooter to take him out." Michael stood up, letting the chair screech on the black and white tiles that lay in the room, where every sound just seemed to echo. "We're done trying to find a way."

"Michael." She lay her hand on his arm trying to stop him from leaving, and feigned hurt when he shook it off. "I'm your _mother_, Michael."

"You just stay away from me, and stay away from my family, _Mother._" He spat out the term. "Because if you do anything to hurt them, I will bring you down in the worst possible way. As for Scylla - - at the final show down, I will be there to stop you."

This time she let him leave, but he felt her eyes bore into his back when he walked away. It was more than that, he could literally feel her goons reaching for their guns and looking at her for an order to shoot. He didn't even feel victorious when he walked out unharmed.

Sara

The first thing she noticed when he came in was how tired he looked. It was the sort of air that only came from being worn out emotionally, no matter how much sleep you'd had at night.

"Smells great in here." He told her, walking over to where she was standing by the stove, stirring a pot of pasta sauce. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he let his head fall onto her shoulder and closed his eyes. Almost immediately he felt her hand touch the side of his face, tenderly stroking his cheek.

"How was it?"

He sighed. "One thing is for sure : that woman was not the mom I knew. She was so fake, Sara. So utterly formed by her need of power, her desire to reign over the Company, that I just couldn't recognize her anymore. She basically said that she would kill us both if we stood in her way."

Letting go of her, he opened the cabinet on the other side of the room and started to set the table. "Going on and on about her operation, about how it wasn't what I thought it to be,… I just..God," he touched his fingers to his forehead and squeezed the skin together. "now I know why I was so good at lying."

"You weren't _that_ good." Sara playfully said, hoping to lighten the mood. "I could always see _right through you_."

He gave her a feeble smile. "I'm serious. She tried to convince me that she regretted it all, a straight face – puppy eyed expression and a soft voice. I didn't fall for it."

"Well," she smiled and kissed the palm of his hand before threading their fingers together. "I remember Fox River, Michael. And I knew you meant it when you were apologizing to me. So you're not as bad as she is. You _had_ to lie to me, God knows what I would have done if you hadn't. But in the end you came through for me." Sara ran a hand over his short cropped hair. "And that was proof enough that you cared."

"I cared." He whispered, softly capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. "I really did."

Michael

It was nearly nightfall when the phone rang. Michael rinsed his mouth from brushing his teeth and walked over to his cellphone, that lay discarded on the couch, not needed after the aweful meeting this afternoon. But now it rang and as he went to get it, he wondered what was so important that needed to be resolved right now.

"_Michael?"_

Great. Another call from 'the other side'. He only hoped that it wasn't to talk him out of his own quest and join their camp to return Scylla to the General, so 'all would be well'. Except the whole world would fall to bits, that is.

"Alex. What can I do for you?"

"_They've got your brother, Michael. They took Linc."_

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_So? (bites lip nervously) What did you think? Please tell me? Please?_

_Xo, as always_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N : You guys, first of all I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your reviews really mean so much to me, I can't describe it. In response to Saar's review, I will say that I don't really know how long this story will go on for, but I know that it probably won't be a 30-chapter story like a couple of my other stories are. Everyone, I'm so happy that you like the story; I hope I don't disappoint.**

**Also, I've just seen episode 4x19 and let me tell you - whoa! IMO one of the most exciting PB episodes so far. My mouth was constantly hanging open in a silent scream and there were times that I just wanted to bang my fist against the screen. If you haven't seen the episode - SEE it! I can give you the link. If you want to banter about the episode, PM me! Or e-mail me.. I'm always up for a little joined obsessing.**

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter? Please review?**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Michael

He met Mahone at the marina, the same place where they had met the previous time, where he had asked for 'any information they had', and promised them that it didn't have to be either/or. They could save their family AND save the world, as long as they trusted him.

"Last night, we were hot on their trail, and I mean really, _really_ close, Michael. We found out from where your mother is orchestrating all of it and we followed them there. But somehow…" Mahone's hand went up in the air to show his frustration, his bitter irritation of not having been able to pull it off. "Somehow they found us out and her men came at us, but they only took Lincoln. I..I don't know why, but they only took him and they put us in a room somewhere."

"_In _the house?" Mahone shook his head unnoticeably. He could just see the bits falling together in Michael's head, the way they always did. It seemed surreal that only a few months ago, he had been trying to figure out the man that now stood before him, looking for a clean kill.

Alexander Mahone had always respected Michael, but in these last few months, it had grown deeper than that. Admiration had just turned a whole different corner than he ever thought it would at the very start.

"Yes. I know you're going to ask me for details, and I'll try to give them to you later, but there's something else you need to know." He shifted his gaze to the harbor, preparing himself for what had happened next. "Your mother came in with this smirk on her lips and she just looked at us like we were nothing, like we could _do_ nothing to stop her. Next, she turned to the men and told them to release us, because 'we were no threat to her at all'."

Mahone looked at the empty space beside Michael, only now registering the fact that there was something missing. Or rather, someone. "Michael, where… where is Sara?"

"She didn't need to be here to hear all of this. I told her to stay at home. " He wondered if he should tell Mahone about her pregnancy, but decided against it. They may have a common ground in wanting Lincoln back from his mother's claws, but in the end, they still had different goals.

Mahone looked concerned. "Michael, your mother had you trailed the other day, she _knows_ where you live. I heard her ask the agents if everything was set regarding you… You should…"

"No." The word was cried out silently, but hit like a tidal wave. Something was wrong, and he cursed himself for not having picked up on it sooner.

He ran and could hear Mahone right behind him, trying to catch up. The former FBI agent would have caught him, too, if Michael hadn't reached the car and shifted it into gear long before Mahone could.

"Michael!"

-

He was literally aching before he even pushed open the door. When he did, the first thing he saw was that all the pictures on the wall had been thrown to the ground, the broken glass strewn over the hardwood floor.

"Sara?"

He knew that he called for her in vain, knew that she wouldn't be there to answer it, but still – he needed to try, needed to... His throat constricted and he sunk down onto the ground, trying to calm his breathing. _They had taken her._ He felt like screaming into the morning sky when saw the specks of her blood on the wooden floor. _Oh god._

For what seemed like the millionth time, he hadn't been able to protect her. He hadn't been there when she'd needed him. Michael let his head fall inside his cradling hands and sighed. He needed to be strong for her. She needed him to be.

Sara

When they had come for her, the first thing that came to mind was just letting them take her without putting up a fight. She could and should have just nodded, asked them where they would be taking her and walk down the thirteen flights to where their car was parked.

But she didn't – she was too proud to just nod and give up, walking like a tame lam to the slaughter. Throwing the first pictureframe she found to the floor, she reached up a shard of the broken glass and held it in her hand. It cut her palm, but she didn't mind the blood falling down. All that mattered was hurting them before they had a chance to hurt her.

She managed to stab them twice before they took up her technique. All the frames crashed to the ground and Sara now resented the fact that they were living alone on this floor. Nobody would hear them.

Them.

It was amazing how the fact that she was pregnant flashed into her head. Fighting the dangerous fight was a good thing if you were only fighting for yourself. With this act of bravery, she was putting the baby at risk as well, and one stabwound to her belly would kill a life immediately. She let the glass fall from her hand and held up both hands in surrender. "I'm coming with you."

The first man dropped his shard of glass while the other lowered his gun. "Thanks for the co-operation, miss." He touched his hand to his thigh, where she had wounded him. "Although, you might have taken that point of view from the beginning."

"Can I write a note?"

The man looked at his colleague in confusion. "Sure," he shrugged. "But let us read it first before you leave it. We don't need any codes or mysterious messages."

"I just want to tell him that it's not his fault that I was taken. He needs to know that."

-

[later]

Well, at least she wasn't being held all alone. The minute she saw Lincoln through the glass window that seperated them, she didn't know _what_ to think anymore. His own eyes widened at the sight of her being bound to a chair, the ropes cutting into her arms and legs.

Michael's mother came only three minutes after she had been brought in, and gave her a honeysweet smile. Michael had been right : she _was_ a conniving woman. "So this is the woman my son has fallen head over heels with. Goodmorning, Sara."

"Sorry if I'm not as happy to see you. Being taken and bound to a chair doesn't really make my day." Her mind was racing, trying to come up with things to say to hurt the queen bee standing in front of her. Trying to figure out what her plan was. "What do you want from me?"

Christina pursed her lips a little before answering. "Darling girl, I don't want anything from you. Let's just say that you're my leverage."

"Great." Sara spat. "In case you didn't know, I've _been_ leverage before, and I didn't like that one bit. Neither did Michael, by the way."

"Oh right, my son. The 'knight in shining armour'." She smiled. " But the only question that remains is : if he would have to choose between you or his brother, who ever would he go for? The brother who has always been there for him, or the little addict girl who left the door open?"

Now, Sara didn't like hurting someone, nor humiliating them, but the words Christina had spoken, cut deep. She knew that Michael wouldn't leave her, she knew that deep in her heart. He would find a way to save them both. Still, she spat in the woman's face.

Christina backhanded her, and the chair rocked with the movement before falling to the ground. In the distance, she heard Lincoln's chair screech.

-

Michael

He knocked on the door to Lincoln's hideout later that evening, clutching Sara's note in his hand to keep from breaking down. He already knew that his eyes were swollen from trying to push his tears back, but he couldn't afford to lose it – not when she needed him most.

_It's not your fault. I love you._

That's what the note said. He kept on letting her down time and time again and at every opportunity, she told him that it wasn't his fault. That she loved him. It made the pain of losing her even greater.

Mahone opened up the door, took one look at him and motioned for him to come in. "They took Sara."

It was the first time he had spoken in hours, ever since he had called her name in the empty appartment. "I just couldn't stay there – there was blood on the …"

"It's okay." Alex placed his hand on Michael's shoulder. "You can stay with us for a while."

"Are my ears correct?" The voice cut through him. _Great, the last person he needed right now. _"Do I hear Pretty Boy in _our _spot?" T-bag jumped from the sofa and turned around to claw at Michael, but stopped when he saw Mahone's expression and Michael's…everything.

"What happened?" Self walked towards them from the kitchen island, a bottle of water in one hand, handing it to Michael as soon as he reached them.

"They took Sara."

The silence was overwhelming. Even T-bag shut up and was rooted to the earth. "I'm sorry, Michael." Self told him. "Do you think it's your mother?"

"I know it is." That being said, he reached for Sandinsky's cellphone and dialed his mother's number. "Mother. You've got some people who belong with me."

"_Oh, Michael, dear. I was wondering when you were going to call."_ The sound of her voice, that he had longed to hear for nearly two decades, now repulsed him, and the anger he felt supressed his sadness. _"I'm sorry it had to be this way, truly sorry."_

"I don't believe you. And I want you to let them go. If it's me you want, then _TAKE_ me!" His rage poured out of him in waves. Everyone kept on coming after the people he loved, but they never seemed to capture him. If every plan and every step was to get to him, then he should be the one they came for. "Don't hurt _them_."

"_I can't, Michael. I need you running around, doing what I tell you to. Of all the mice that are looking for Scylla, you're the most useful. I just needed some…persuasive means."_

He sighed, closing his eyes. "Whatever you do, don't hurt Sara." He took a breath, knowing that what he said next could work in her advantage, but he needed to say it to protect his family. "She's pregnant."

Three heads snapped up at once. Mahone, T-Bag and Self stared at Michael, trying to make out the truth in his words. If it were true, if Sara was pregnant, it would add a whole other level of complication to their mission. If Sara _was_ pregnant, Michael's future would be able to shatter because of one wrong move on his mother's side.

"I know that you don't care as much about your children, as I do, but – don't hurt our baby."

His mother disconnected and Michael snapped the phone shut, before facing the men again.

"Sara's pregnant?"

He nodded curtly and walked over to the window, trying to think of a way out of this mess.

There it was again. The comforting hand placed on his shoulderblade, the slight squeeze of reassurance. "We'll find a way, Michael." He patted his shoulder twice, before taking charge. "Don, you said you could get a hold of the blueprints to Christina's house, right? Find them. The rest of us will figure out what to do before we get in there."

"Now gentlemen, I need to ask for our priorities list. Do we save Linc and the pretty doctor or _do we go for Scylla_?"

Michael's hand was around T-bag's throat in less than two seconds. Pushing the man up against the refrigerator, he didn't mind the fact that he banged his head in the proces. "Michael, settle down."

Alex pulled him off of T-bag and gently pushed him away. "As for _you_," he pointed at the other man menacingly. "We save Lincoln and Sara. They're with Christina, who has Scylla. You with me so far?"

T-bag rubbed his throat and nodded. "Sure thing. So we grab the doc, grab the guy _and_ grab the thing?"

"Exactly." Self told him. "And we've got _this _to help us do that." He triumphantically turned his laptop around to show the blueprints he had found.

Michael walked over to him and stared at the screen, knowing that his plan _had _to work. He couldn't lose either one of them. He loved them too much to let that happen.

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_So? What did you guys think? Please tell me? Please review?_

_Xo, as always_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N : You guys! Thank you soo much for reviewing, it really means the world to me. And I'm sorry that I didn't reply to everyone in person this time, but I promise that if you review this one, I will! (and no, that's NOT trying to blackmail you... Alright, maybe a lil' -- smiles -- ). **

**Seriously though, please tell me what you think about this chapter? Please? It means the world to me, I can't say it enough.**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Michael

When they had gone out looking for guns and props, and enough ammunition to start a small war, the finality of it all occurred to him again. They were getting themselves into a situation where there were only two endings imagineable, and it made his heartbeat speed up every now and then. _Boom. Boom._

It was different when they were running around trying to be stealthy and recover Scylla, when nothing more was at stake but their success of the day. Not even when he was having the seizures, because at that time he had been too damn stubborn to get himself _fixed_. Knowing Sara, she had been furious at that time, but she had tried not to let it show too often. Her worry for his safety had been greater than her anger. He wasn't sure which emotion got the better of him this time.

Now that she was at risk, right alongside his brother, the bids had been raised. He had already lost her one time too many, and he couldn't go through that again. When he had been in Sona, it hadn't been the inmates or the gladiator games that had scared him the most. It had been the thought of never seeing her again, never holding her close.

What he wanted to do, more than anything, was to turn back time, back to that faithful day in Panama. Erase everything that had happened from there and just be at the point where he had turned and saw her standing on the boat, waving the dust away. They had been so close to being free, then.

_Free._

He was grateful that the operation had made it easier for him to think again. Grateful that right now, he had a purpose that he could turn into solid plans and thoughts and motions. He had the blueprints. He had the guns.

All he needed was them.

-

Sara

She shook off her shoes and stared up at the ceiling, laying on her bed. Christina had transferred her here, to a decent room in the house, just a little while ago. It could only mean one thing : she knew about the pregnancy.

There was no light in the room, for her captor had the windows blocked by metallic plates, leaving open just the slightest crack. The play of the light on her walls soothed Sara, a bit. It wasn't much, but it was something to entertain herself with until he came for her.

"I want to see Lincoln."

God, she didn't even need to get up and leave the bed to let them know. The door had been unhinged and removed. All that was there was a gaping hole for her to walk through, and two guards with guns in the hallway. She could randomly shout things at them, but lacked the energy. And she didn't want to feel like a five year old, either.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Well, it doesn't really matter what you think, does it? You should get his mom in here, I'd like to talk to her." _Like_ may be stretching the truth a bit, but she needed to see Lincoln. Needed to know if he was okay, while she was getting the one-star treatment with a bed and access to a bathroom when she wished it.

She heard the guard murmur something into the small microphone attached to his jacket and smiled. There was nothing like trying to undermine a person's authority by calling for his boss.

God, she despised the woman. Despised how she spoke of her, how she manipulated and tried to take out her sons, and how she had just - - left them to work for the company. It had been more than leaving them, she had let them cry over her, grieve and mourn her loss. She had led them to believe that she was dead, never resurfacing until now.

Where _had_ she been when Lincoln was being framed? At least his father had tried to make things right, at least _he_ had been the one dying for what he believed in. Alongside his sons.

"Sara." The honeysweet yet worn voice called out to her. "I heard you'd asked to see me."

Sara nodded. "Because I want to see Lincoln, and apparently," she mockingly flicked her wrist mid-air, "you're the go-to girl."

Christina raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Why on earth would you want to see him? I already granted you two guards by the door and a bed to sleep in, don't you _have_ everything you need?"

Sara huffed bitterly. "I didn't ask for this. And Lincoln is my family. Not yours. Mine." Her fist pounded against her chest, accentuating her point. "Besides, what are you afraid of? That we'd try and escape this place? You know we wouldn't find a way. That we'd set up an 'I hate Christina' club?" Sara rolled her eyes. "You know that there's nothing we could say to eachother that would risk your operation. So just let me see him, would you?"

-

She was roughly thrust into the room where he was being held, but managed not to fall flat on her face. She sat in front of him, her bare feet on the cold tiles.

"Lincoln."

He sighed relieved when she greeted him, closing his eyes in a silent thank you. "Sara, when they'd taken you away, I didn't know what –"

"It's okay. Apparently, she didn't want to risk hurting my baby." A sad smile appeared on her face. She wished that she could have told him some other way, preferable when being next to Michael, his hand in hers.

"You're pregnant?" He whistled through his teeth. "Well, congratulations. The timing's pretty off, though."

"Don't I know it?" She laughed. "Michael and I went through a three day fase of shock when we found out."

It was incredible how his name seemed to be the only sound that echoed in the room. It was as if a heavy blanket had suddenly been thrown over the two (three, when you counted the baby) of them, forcing the situation to sink in.

"He'll come for you, you know?"

"I was just about to tell you the same thing."

Yet she feared that that was exactly what Christina wanted her son to do. To come and save them, to try and stop her. She would force him to choose between her and Lincoln and Michael would be so torn that he wouldn't know what to do with himself. She sighed. Lincoln was closest to the door.

"I want you to do something for me." She whispered to him, not daring to speak out loud, afraid of the panic he might be able to detect in her voice if she did. "If he comes for us, but something goes wrong before you get to me, I want you to run."

He shook his head. "There's no way that we're leaving you."

"You need to, Lincoln. You need to, or she'll kill you both." Her hand squeezed his knee. "The fact that she put me inside a real room, without windows or door, but _with _a bed, shows that she's not likely to hurt me. I guess this little baby is already a lifesaver."

"Wow. That sure is your kid."

"Yeah." She rubbed her stomach protectively. "It sure is."

-

Michael

The house loomed in front of them, its magnitude trying to scare away anyone who even dared to come close. He wasn't impressed, having designed far larger buildings in what seemed like another life. A quick check of the structure proved to him that the blueprints they had studied had been the correct ones. It was a confirmation that he had desperately needed.

The place that was most likely being used for keeping…_prisoners_, was on the south end of the building, where partitions had been built in a room that had no apparent use other than to make the room smaller. So small that it would be impossible to live there. He shivered inwardly and motioned for Self and T-bag to approach from the left, while Mahone and he went in by jumping the fence on the right side, all the while dodging the security cameras and guard. Sure, they had brought guns, but if it wasn't necessary, they weren't going to use them.

He cursed the building for not having a fire escape that led them immediately to the rooms. It meant that they would have to get inside and up, without bumping into anyone. Except for now, when they needed to take out a guard and get his pass. Because of _course_ his mother had an electronic alarm system that made it impossible for anyone without a pass to gain access to the house. Figures.

Mahone's hand expertly went to cover the man's mouth when he elbowed him in the back of the head, rendering him unconscious. They quickly grabbed his pass and communication set and walked over to the glass door, relieved when it slid open, giving them the green light.

-

They found Lincoln almost immediately, in one of the two compartments, seperated by glass. Michael's eyes immediately went to the other partition, where she should have been. The emptiness he found scared him, but when he glanced at Lincoln his brother set him at ease.

He was grateful for Lincoln, even more so when his arms enveloped him and squeezed tightly. "She's okay, Michael. They put her in one of the rooms down the hallway."

Lincoln smiled slightly. His brother had always been so clear when it came to Sara. Michael could be a closed book when he wanted to, but when it came to this woman, his eyes always betrayed him. Sara had knocked down the walls that he had so carefully set up over the years, and Lincoln was more than happy about that. He decided that he wouldn't tell Michael what she had said about leaving her, knowing it would just worry him even more.

"Which room?"

Lincoln grinned. "The one without a door."

-

He just didn't understand. They had done everything exactly the way they had needed to. It had all been planned in advance, not a flaw to be detected anywhere in the formula. So how was it that from every direction, guns were pointed at them?

"Where do you think you're going, Michael?"

* * *

_Please tell me what you think? Please? I already have so many ideas for the next chapter, and can't wait to put them into action, but I really really need to know what you thought first! (once again, NOT blackmailing y'all. -- grin -- )_

_Xo, as always_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N : Guys, once again, I want to thank you all for reviewing!!! Now, I answered the ones that could be, but to the other ones I'll say what I always say : It meant the world to me. Thank you.**

**Now, I really _really_ really hope you'll like this chapter. It's the one that I have been dreaming of for a while now, and I'm glad the moment came where I could finally write it down and post it.**

**Please tell me if you like it? Virtual cookies will be handed out if you review! **

**Xo, as always**

* * *

"You _know_ where I am going."

He turned to where her voice had come from and stared at her. The knowing look on her face shook him somewhat – it seemed as if she had simply known that this would be the night when he would try and save them, that she had known every little detail of his plan.

"You're right, Michael. I do know. Which is why I decided to save you the trouble."

And then there she was, a gun pointed at her, meekly walking towards their little gathering. She held her head up proudly and smiled when her eyes caught his. "Sara," his mother continued, "how nice of you to join us."

Sara huffed, never taking her eyes off of Michael's face. He may not look it, but inside she could almost hear all the alarmbells that were going off in his mind. She had felt him tense, all the way across the room. Which is why she tried to set him at ease, hoping that he could read her as well as she did him. _It was going to be okay._

"I really don't get why you're doing this. Why you had to drag them into your little game." He couldn't believe how Sara could be so calm. He sensed her even breathing and inner calm, and didn't…understand. It made his worry increase even more.

Christina smiled. "You of all people should know how fond I am of striking a bargain. "

"With people's lives at stake?"

"If that's what it takes." Michael shook his head in disbelief. She was all that he had been fighting from the very beginning, everything he had been trying to terminate. "Which is why I am going to make you a deal, Michael : work _with_ me, not against me, from now on, and I will let one of them walk out of here alive. If you don't, I can tell you right now that I won't spare either of them."

Sara closed her eyes. She had expected this, which was exactly why she had told Lincoln what she had. He was most likely to be the one they went for first, and if she could protect him this way, she would.

"You wouldn't do that."

Christina grinned at him. "Do you really think I'm not serious about this?"

"I think you're smart enough to understand that there's no way in _hell_ that I would work with you if you hurt them." Michael finally tore his gaze away from Sara, staring his mother in the eye. She tilted her head sideways, grabbed a gun away from one of her own men and fired in Lincoln's direction.

"_No._" It was meant to come out a scream, but he only seemed to manage a slight whisper. Linc hadn't been hurt, but the bullets had missed him by less than an inch. "I can't do this."

"Give me one good reason why you should prefer this situation over the one where you would be working with me. Michael, you know that we could be great together. We have the same mind, you and I. You can't deny the possibilities."

There were millions of reasons why he shouldn't. Millions of thoughts that entered his mind, shutting down its capability by the mere idea of joining her. But only one stood out from the rest, one reason that would be as much a snide remark as a valid reason. " I grew up with only Linc to look out for me, and we struggled like hell to make it through. My baby needs a father."

"You can still be the baby's father, Michael." She said it as if it was the most logical fact that she had ever stated. It was despicable. She had been the one leaving them to go after fame, money and power, and was lecturing him about being a parent.

"But _not_ the kind of father he or she deserves!" This time, the scream came out full force. "_Or_ the kind of husband Sara deserves, or the kind of brother." Michael's face twisted slightly, the agony in his voice too much to hide. "I won't do that to them."

"But you think you're the kind of man they deserve now?" Christina laughed, and it reverberated in his very bones. "A man who lets the woman he loves get taken from him at every possible occasion? How many times has it been, Michael? Three? And that's not even counting the time that you sent her straight into an overdose."

"Michael, don't listen to her!" It was a cry filled with desperation, and she was immediately rewarded for it by an arm snaking around her throat, pulling her hard against the guards body..and his gun.

"If you don't release her right now, I will _never_ even _think _of joining you." He pointed his finger menacingly at the man, who, after a curt nod from Christina, lessened his grip. "Do you see these people?" He motioned around the room, from Sara to Lincoln, Mahone and the rest of them. "_They_ have been there for me when I was in trouble, mother. When I was being hunted down by your former boss and your own agents, they were the ones who had my back. Not you. And if _any_ of them have anything to say, you will let them say it."

Alex turned to him. "She's trying to carve out your personality, Michael. You can't let them do that."

"Maybe I am," Christina smiled. "But you can't deny that everything I've said is true, can you?" She looked almost happy with his mistakes, and they way they ate at him. "_Just_ like the fact that you weren't there for your brother when he called you on that fateful night. You could have stopped him, Michael. You could have prevented all of this. It's your fault all those people died, isn't it?"

Alex Mahone huffed. "Don't even pretend to blame him for all that's happened. Michael, you and I both know that they would have found a way to frame Lincoln anyway."

"Were you there, when they decided on using him as their scapegoat, mother?" Michael spat the words at her, trying to numb this gnawing feeling inside of him. "Were you the one who signed off on the deal to sacrifice your own son?"

He felt every memory they had ever shared shatter when she nodded. "Yes, Michael, I was. Your father needed to repent for what he had done, and using Lincoln was the best way to do that."

"You make me sick." It was the first time that Lincoln spoke up since this little game had started. "You really make me sick, do you know that? I can't believe my own mother signed my death sentence."

"That's because I'm not, Lincoln. I never was."

-

It was as if she had pushed a button and made a bomb go off inside the room. In his mind, Michael saw images of torn clothes, of dried blood stains and stripes of dirt and ash on their faces. Lincoln wasn't his brother, not really. Yet he was, in every way that counted.

"Lincoln has been more real, and more family to me than you have ever been."

"So save his life, Michael. Or save Sara's. Save neither of them for all I care. But make your choice."

"Lincoln.." Sara's voice was quiet, but the spoken name echoed in the room. Michael watched his brother, who had been torn to pieces by Christina's statement, and saw the hurt on his face turn to determination. He shook his head. "No."

"You see, Michael.." Christina explained to him, "your _honorable_ girlfriend told Lincoln that she would sacrifice herself so you all would be safe."

Sara's eyes portrayed an apology and silently told him that it was okay. She wouldn't blame him if he chose his brother over her, more than that – she had already made the decision for him. "Sara, you can't be serious."

She smiled slightly at him before nodding. "It's okay, Michael."

"NO. I'm not leaving you, ever again." He turned to his mother. "I'll stay, as long as you let everyone else go."

"Fine."

-

Immediately after he had made his decision, the goons had dropped their guns and taken a step back. They were free – except he was not.

"_Michael, don't do this."_ He heard the words in every mind in the room but one, and paid no attention to it. If this was what he had to do to save his family, then he would. He went over to hug Lincoln and realized for the millionth time that it didn't matter if they shared the same blood or not… Lincoln was his brother, and he would give his own life for him. Maybe now he had.

"You shouldn't have don't this, man."

Holding Sara again felt liberating. He was reminded of all those times when they had found eachother again after being parted, the same feeling of deep inner ease coming over him. "Michael.."

He silenced her with his eyes and took her hand, leading her into the garden. It felt safe amongst the wilderness, the chaos and shelter. They sat down on the small stone bench, and he placed her hand between his own. "It's going to be okay."

She shook her head. "You shouldn't have done this. There was another way."

"I couldn't afford losing either of you, you had to know that."

Sara leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss. "Of course I knew." The stars were dancing in her eyes when they parted, and he knew that it was only because of the unshed tears that he was able to see them. "Which is why I told Lincoln to leave me behind if anything went wrong. I made the choice for you, Michael. She wouldn't have hurt me because of the baby." She turned to look the other way. "You should have taken it."

"Hey," he directed her gaze back to his. "maybe something good will come out of this. When I'm inside, it'll be easier to get to Scylla. I'll try and contact you when I can, okay? Send you information on how to bring her down."

Sara sighed. "It's still dangerous."

"I love you, okay?" He pulled her close, whispering the words against her ear. "I love you, and I promise I'll be fine." His fingers caressed her hair, her ears, her face… she was safe again, and that mattered more to him than staying.

"You better be. Because we need you." She smiled slightly. "All of us."

-

Christina was watching them from the window upstairs. She could tell how much they loved eachother, and for once, didn't know how to feel. She had left Michael a long time ago and couldn't take credit for the man he had become.

But some chord had been struck inside of her when she had had to accuse him of all those things. When she had tried to break him down, make him more receptive of her offer. Sure, he had made a lot of mistakes, but throwing them in his face had been plain cruel.

He was her son. Her only son.

And she was ruining his life.

* * *

_Okay, so please tell me what you think? I felt like I needed to add the "Lincoln isn't your brother"bombshell in here, but add that Lincoln is Michael's brother in EVERY WAY THAT COUNTS! Gosh, I was soo angry at Christina, the way she spoke of Lincoln. I really needed to keep myself from reaching through the screen and strangling her. I mean, come on! _

_Anyway, all that put aside -- what did you think? Please tell me (if) you liked it? Pretty please? (holds up a batch of virtual cookies)_

_XO, as always_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N : You guuuys! I'm so sorry it took me this long to come up with another chapter! It's been just plain crazy in my life - festivals, concerts and roadtrips to foreign countries, last days of uni and trying to study on top of that.. Gah! (craziness ensued). Anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed the previous chapter : it means the world the world the world! (even the entire Milky Way!).**

**Please let me know what you think of this chapter? Once again, a sort of in-between chapter. I am really really hoping that you'll like it anyway! (should I promise virtual cookies again? Yay or nay?)**

**Xo, as always**

* * *

Sara

"I'm not leaving him."

"We're not asking you to leave him, Sara." Mahone sighed, deep down already knowing that she wouldn't give in. Sara hadn't given up on Michael all the previous times he had tried to make her see that it would be better for her to go, to make her understand that this way she would be safe. That they would take care of Michael. "All that we're trying to do is make sure that you're safe, that no one can hurt you anymore."

"By shipping me off? You know what happens when you leave me on my own - it's happened time and time again. If it's not the Company that gets to me, it's Christina. Agent Kellerman, Christina's men… I can clearly remember _you_ coming after me once upon a time."

"And I'm _sorry_ for that." He reasoned. "You know that I had no choice at that time."

"Then I hope you understand that right now, I don't have a choice either." Sara finally turned to him, directing her gaze from the skyline outside to his worn face. "I'm not leaving him, Alex. I can't. So just – tell me what to do, and I'll do it. But I'm staying."

She couldn't believe that they wanted her to leave again. She had been torn away from Michael time and time again, and now that he was in danger, they wanted her to leave on her own. By choice. It was absurd. Michael needed her right now, and she would try to save him, the way he had her. Damn them if they wanted her to stay on the sidelines and look on helplessly.

"Besides, you and I both know that Michael will try to fix this thing even from the inside. You know that he will try to reach us somehow, and that if he does, chances are he will address me. Michael has tried to reach me time and time again, and.." she fell silent, all his attempts to contact her playing through her mind : The birds he had sent her to show he cared. The video in which he begged for her forgiveness._ "I know I can't ask you for a second chance. I only hope by now you've found your safe haven."_

Damn it. He was her safe place, he was the one she went to when she needed to hide from the world. She prayed that he knew by now. "… chances are that I'm the only one who's going to be able to crack his code. You need me just as much as I need to be here."

"'Scuse me for another interruption, folks, but what _exactly_ are we trying to do here? As far as I'm concerned Pretty Boy is the enemy now, or am I mistaken? He _joined_ the dark side." Theodore Bagwell needed clarity. Sure, he was known to lean towards the strongest party in battle, but now that something true was at stake, now that they had his momma, it didn't matter which side would win the battle, and whose pawn he would wound up as. As long as his momma would be okay. "With all due respect, doctor, it don't matter who needs who in this scenario. The only truth is that we _still_ _need Scylla._"

"He's right."

Sara's eyes widened, not believing who had spoken the words had she not seen his lips move. Had she not recognized his voice. "Lincoln?"

Michael's broth.. – no – Lincoln ran a hand over his head, his eyes closed in silent frustration. "Sara, I'm not saying that we're not going to give this idea of helping Michael get Scylla from the inside a go, it's just that we can't just sit around and do nothing until he reaches out to us. You know as well as I do that it's not what Michael would have wanted."

"_Would have wanted?_ For God's SAKE, Lincoln. He's not _dead._" Suddenly another image flashed into her head, momentarily blinding her. In her vision she saw the future, where it would come to a head-on confrontation, and _they_ would be the ones pulling the gun on him. A sharp ache shot through her body. "But I swear to God, if anyone of you ever hurt him, you will be."

-

Michael

"Of course you know that I want to get in on Scylla."

His mother laughed bitterly. "Michael, I think you understand that that is out of the question. The Scylla operation will be a clean one, and I will not have you poking around in it, running off to your little friends and ruining me."

"Do you really think that I don't have a clue as to when I'm being monitored?" From the very second he had made up his mind to join 'the dark side', he had felt eyes and ears registering his every breath. He was a prisoner inside this mansion and had been bugged in every possible way. He would eventually find a way to clear himself of their surveillance, but it was wise to wait for a while. Until a solid plan had been conjured up. "There is no way that I could even punch in the first number before being discovered. There is no way out of this."

He pushed his chin forward stubbornly. "But if I am going to be your right man, the clients need to see that you trust me with an operation as large as this. If they see that I have your trust, I'll gain theirs."

Christina reached for the water jug and let out a small smile as she poured him a glass. "You haven't changed a bit, Michael. You're still as stubborn as when you were five." She handed him the water, a bit disappointed when he didn't accept it until after she had placed it on the solid table. _No direct contact between the two of them, not even the touch of his hand on hers._ She had pushed her son away for good. "Unfortunately, that also means that you're still a good a liar as you were back then." She blinked, trying to figure out exactly what he was thinking. "It's hard to figure you out."

"Don't talk to me about lying. I'm not like you. I've never lied for money, I've never lied for power. The only reason I _ever _lie is because I have to."

"Is that what you tell yourself every time you lie to Sara?"

Michael shook his head. "_Lied._ I don't anymore." He smiled a little, thinking back to the conversation they had mere days ago in the dining room. At that moment, he'd felt more at home than he had in his whole life. _"In the end you came through for me, and that was proof enough that you cared."_ He cleared his mind. Thinking of her would only make it wander, making him lose sight of his goal : to destroy his mother, so he could be with her again.

"But I'm not here to talk about Sara. The good thing – for you – is that I've been there, on the other side, and I know exactly how close they are to getting Scylla. That's got to be enough to get me in on it."

-

He had told her that they had the blueprints to the house, and that the most important thing right now was to move the entire operation somewhere else – somewhere quiet and hidden, more than a structure that was unbreachable. After all, there was nothing that couldn't be accomplished once you had blueprints to the building. They needed to disappear off the radar, go somewhere untraceable. It even raised his odds of getting something out unseen, and have it delivered to Sara.

He watched the woman he had once called 'mom' closely as she ordered her men about, and was disgusted by the gentle tone she used with them while doing so. Every thing about her that seemed the least bit reminiscent of the time they had spent together when he was a kid, angered him. It seemed as if, looking back, it had all been an illusion. Christina had always played a role around them and made them resent their father. The very man who had tried to do what they were trying to do now.

"Michael? We're going to meet the prime minister of India. You should come with."

-

His mind was racing with the things he had heard and seen, the answers he had uncovered to the questions that had been haunting him for a long time now. So his mother was trying to unchain World War III. It was a dangerous game she was playing, and she was about to get burnt very badly. The only question was how he was going to make sure she did.

They had taken his phone the minute he had entered his bedroom, where Sara had once been held, and fixed it up so there was no possible way he could make a connection by calling. The only thing he supposed he could do was send her something. A note, a coded bird, a simple wooden stick with carvings,… anything, really. He dug up the pen that he had stolen in the embassy and grabbed the first thing he found. It would have to do.

-

Sara

It had been almost two days since they had heard from Michael. Exactly 35 hours and 23 minutes ago he had taken her aside in the garden and told her it was going to be okay. She wondered, then, why he hadn't sent word that he was okay. Fear crawled underneath her skin, growing stronger with every second he was away.

The cravings she used to had grew stronger as well. Watching Lincoln swing back a bottle of beer or seeing Mahone shoot some straight liquor was nearly killing her. Thank God their medicine cabinet was nowhere near stocked and thank God the sensible part of her had been able to maintain control. She wanted nothing more than to hide underneath her covers and to wake up many years later, when all of this was over. She sighed. Even a few days later would be okay.

Her hand went to cover her belly for the millionth time, assuring the baby that it would all be over soon. She had found out that setting the little squirt at ease, also made her feel calm. Collected.

The door slammed, shaking her out of her reverie. Self's excited voice echoed through the near – empty loft. "We've got a package. I think it's from Michael." She stood abruptly and walked over to the table, eagerly ripping open the paper.

She just prayed that she would understand.

* * *

_So? (bites lip nervously until there is almost nothing left) Please tell me what you think? Please?_

_XO, as always, and a lot of virtual cookies with chocolate and/or M&M's!_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N : Guys, I'm back with another chapter! I'm sorry this one took me so long, but I was actually kind of stuck after writing the previous chapter. Because I was like : 'okay, they've gotten a package from Michael. _What is it and how did it get there?'. _Then it came to me, so I wrote it down - tadaa! I really hope you'll like it.**

**Please let me know?**

**Xo, as always  
and an extra X to Ana, she knows why. *smiles***

* * *

Michael

"Leave us."

Michael's eyes opened at the demanding voice, because even though it was not directed at him, it _was_ directed at the goons who were blocking his doorway. They were hesitant to leave him, so the man repeated his order. "_Leave _us. I'll call you when you're needed."

His prisoner sat up straight, his elbows on his knees and a weary expression on his face. "What do you want from me?"

The man walked in and, before he spoke again, pressed his finger to his lips, motioning for Michael to be silent. Next, he reached overhead to the bookshelf and extracted a device from behind one of the worn covers. Smashing it to the floor, he crunched it under his foot to make sure it was truly dead. He systematically did the same to every other boobytrap, until – Michael supposed – the room was clean of any kind of audio and/or video device.

"Do you know how long I've been working for your mother, Michael?" His gaze seemed to cut right through the younger man, the anger and frustration tangible in the air that surrounded them. "Over four years. I've been by her side, her second in command for that ammount of time. Like a _dog_ I've followed her around and kept her safe. The last thing I need is for an inexperienced pup with fleas all over him to come around and take my place in her bed."

It was a sneer filled with contempt, but Michael couldn't distinct whether it was directed at himself or at Christina; all he knew was that he hadn't wanted to be 'man's best friend.'At least not where his mother was concerned.

"I never wanted to be her accomplice. You know that." He was surprised how calm his voice sounded when at the very minute he spoke he had a coded message to his _own_ clan hidden right underneath his pillow.

A short nod. "I know. So the reality of this situation is that I want you _gone_ as much as you want to be back with your own kind." It was amazing how this man defined good and evil as if he were talking of species.. Darwin… the survival of the fittest. He wondered which species, then, would be the one to go extinct. "There's _also_ the fact that the Scylla operation is getting way out of hand."

Inside Michael's brain, something happened. Dots were connected. The process of it was so real to him that he could almost hear the sound of it, the subdued click inside of currents of hurried thoughts that always tried to find the true meaning of things, and acts and words.

The man picked up Michael's nearly empty glass and toyed with the liquid inside. "You were in that meeting, you know what I am talking about."

"You mean Christina's feeble-minded plan of unchaining another World War?"

He set the glass down. "Yes. So that book that you have…" he motioned towards the bed, "right there, you can give it to me, and I'll make sure Sara gets it." At Michael's alarmed look, he grinned. "I'm head of security, Michael. I had this room bugged and I watched your every move on the screen inside my office. Do you really think you'd get away with it so damn easily? Hand it over. I'll see that she gets it."

Michael leaned backwards, placing all his weight upon his hands that were placed behind his body, on the hard mattress. He eyed the man sceptically. "And…_why_ should I trust you again?"

"Because you have no one else, Michael. It's either me, or the mice that wander in the attic."

He paused. It _was_ true, he didn't have anyone else to help him in here, but then again – this man had walked beside his greatest enemy for so long, it was hard not to question his honesty. His loyalty. "If you help me, then your position as second in command will be ruined anyway. Why bother?"

"Because if we do this," his fist cliffed the air, harshly connecting with the palm of his free hand in a sign of revolution, "if we bring her down, she's going to need someone to help her climb back up, Michael. And if I'm the one to do that, I'm not _going_ to be second in command anymore."

"..you'll be first." Michael pinched his brow. "So, you're basically saying that if I help you become the new leader of the very thing I'm trying to fight, you'll help me bring down my mother."

"I'm _saying_, Michael, that if you help me do exactly that – I won't _be_ your enemy anymore. I can be the one who sets you free. You _and_ your family. But to do that, you're going to have to trust me."

-

Sara

She wondered how it was even possible for him to get his hands on something as simple as a post envelope. How he could have bought – or stolen, the line of conscience had blurred a little – this small object without being seen. Still, as she tore it apart, she decided not to care. All that mattered was that it was a sign of life, a prospect of an answer – and a tangible reminder of hope.

She took the small object out of its case and held it up for all of them to see: a book. Self snorted a little but was punched in the gut by his most _loyal_, his most disgusting companion. Sure, Teddy knew exactly what a book could do to a man's life. It had been a stupid little bird book that had granted him new opportunities – the possibility of a life as a whole different, and a commonly respected man. _Cole Pfeiffer. P F E I FF E R._

"What do you think it'll say?"

Sara shook her head. "Nothing much to get from the title." It was a book on architecture, on _"Foundations of Society"_. She carefully opened the cover and let her eyes scan the pages.

"He's written some things in the margins," she told them. "India. China. Scylla = Weapon." She turned the pages one by one, always telling her companions exactly what he had written down. It was never more than one word, but somehow, to her, they made sense. She let out a shaky breath when the last sign came into view. "World War."

"How about those tiny dots and numbers?" The scent of Teddy Bagwell right next to her ear almost made her recoil in disgust. She snapped the book closed, marking her territory. "Those are for me."

"Right, and we're just supposed to take your word on that?" Self uttured in disbelief. "I- It could say something about us, it could say something important and you could just keep it to yourself.. how's that for teamwork?"

"Because I would deliberately try to undermine you, is that it?" She stalked over to him and held her face menacingly close to his. "I want Michael out of there _far, far _more than you do, Don. And as for keeping things from people, do you really _want_ me to remind you of that time where you turned and stabbed us in the back?"

She rolled her eyes when his fingers clutched the edges of the book, pulling it into his own body and away from her. "It's a code he uses only to get in touch with me. How would you like for me to read your personal mail?"

"Don, just give it to her." Lincoln's gruff voice seemed to have an effect on the former agent, at least, because he reluctantly let go. God, she could clearly see that he wasn't used to being overthrown by a woman.

"Thank you." She cast him a sly, victorious grin and walked into another room, her cellphone clutched in her hand.

"_WATCH YOUR BACK."_ Michael had written her. Clearly, Don Self wasn't the only one with trust issues.

-

"The thing I think we should work from, is this." Alex motioned towards the words written on page 53, which were an address somewhere near Miami and a date. Tomorrow. "We should go find out what that is, _where_ that is, and how we're going to get in that building without being seen. Lincoln, Sara… would you be okay with doing that?"

"What's the rest of us supposed to do in the meantime?" That slow drawl would be the death of her one day. It reminded her of all those times in the infirmary when he had tried to come on to her, humming while she dressed his wounds. It despised her, and even then she had wanted to do nothing more than slap the grin off of his face. "Twittle around and come up with a routine?"

"We'll go look for guns." Alex explained to him. "Ammunition. Ropes, badges, uniforms or bags of potatoes, whatever we might need." She could tell he was losing his patience as well. "Or are you not up for such a task, Bagwell? We can always leave you here. Twittle all you want, for all I care." He grabbed his jacket and walked towards the door, knowing the little birds would follow him in a heartbeat.

-

"So how are you doing?"

Sara lowered the binoculars and smiled at Lincoln. "Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing."

He shrugged in that way that only he knew how. A shrug filled with indifference, in which also wisdom and hope resided. "Somehow, I think I should have known. Not that she wasn't my real mother and that she and Aldo would belong to a secret organisation which would tear me apart, but that.." he swallowed. "I don't know. Maybe we are just so different, like it was even when we were kids, that I knew we weren't really related."

"You're his brother in all the ways that really matter, Linc."

"Am I?" Lincoln shook his head. "I was the rebel, I was the reckless one… if I hadn't been, there'd been no way they could have ever framed us for this."

"That's not true and you know it." Jotting down something on her notepad, she was surprised to hear the next words to come out of his mouth.

"Well, at least you guys found eachother." He leaned over her to glance across the street, to the cement building that they would try to break into. "That's something good to come out of this."

She laughed breathlessly. Compared to all the suffering that was happening around them, finding Michael had been more than a good thing. He had been the best thing ever to happen to her, and after she saved him – they could start a whole new life together. "Yeah."

"So, do you think we can pull this off?"

"Sure we can." He reassured her. "But Sara, maybe you should –"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm pregnant, Lincoln. Not disabled."

"Maybe they have bulletproof vests designed especially for your…condition."

Sara chuckled. "Yeah. Maybe."

-

What she saw when they came back into the appartment, scared her. Enormous ammounts of ropes, guns and bullets were scattered on the black and white tiles, littering the glass coffee table. The blueprints to the building were taped on the windows and pictures of the security guards she had only just seen patrolling the grounds, hung next to them.

She excused herself from Lincoln's side and walked away to get cleaned up. She couldn't remember a single time when her reflection had looked so worn, so thin and so unhealthy. Drawing her fingers over her face, she pushed the tap open with the other hand and let the ice cold water cascade on her wrist. It was a trick that she had learned when she was young: the feeling of spikes of just-that-little ammount of pain shooting through her veins calmed her. Pushed the tears that were forming away, because all that she could think about was how cold it felt, and how utterly alive she knew she was, in that very moment. The water was colorless…and there was no blood.

Not yet.

* * *

_So? What did you think? Did you like it? (ooooh, please tell me you did! Cookies? Cookies! -- I've just bought a recipe book called "500 cookies" and I promise to make you the ones with three kinds of chocolate if you review! Promise!)_

_Xo, as always!_


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